


Superbly

by xRabbitx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Just a silly little thing, M/M, i wrote this in like 10 minutes lol, very fluffy too, very non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 08:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12361743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRabbitx/pseuds/xRabbitx
Summary: Junkrat really wants to make a surprise for Roadhog, but it's not that easy...





	Superbly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hattedhedgehog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hattedhedgehog/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Hattie! I hope you like this silly, little fluff piece :)

*

 

Waking up to the smell of someone cooking is such a relatively normal occurrence that most people probably wouldn’t think twice about it. When the world around you has been blown up, however, and all that’s left is a dry, infertile wasteland where food and water are scarce, you do think twice about waking up to the warm, inviting smell of someone cooking. When that warm, inviting smell is also slightly tinged by a bitter, burned smell, you groan and realize that it’s your partner/boyfriend in crime who has decided to be creative in the kitchen, which under normal circumstances would be a lovely thing. This particular partner/boyfriend in crime, however, has never in his life seen a real kitchen before and is more likely to set the house on fire than produce anything edible.

          Mako has to seriously get himself together to get out of bed. It’s one of those scenarios where he’d just rather not know if the house is about to explode and/or burn down. But no, that would be irresponsible of him, and ever since he and Junkrat “volunteered” to join Overwatch instead of spending the rest of their lives in two different isolation cells, Mako needs to exercise at least a little responsibility. It annoys him, because he hasn’t had to act responsible in almost 30 years, and it’s annoying having to start again. On the other hand, as much as Mako hates to admit it, the steady supply of good, healthy food and water, medicine, plus an actual bed to sleep in, has done Junkrat a lot of good. He’s not as starvingly skinny anymore, he’s a little less twitchy, and his memory has gotten better. Even his hair has started growing back a little even though it will probably never grow fully back. And then there’s the fact that Junkrat—probably for the very first time in his short life—has made friends, and specifically friend where he didn’t have to worry about them stabbing him in the back and killing him for information about his treasure. Mako is stupidly jealous, of course, and it takes a lot of self-control on his part not to rip anyone Junkrat talks to limb from limb.

          “Bloody, fucking—!”

          “Language!”

          “Sorry, ma’am, it’s just—bleeding crust got burned again.”

          “You probably just added too much sugar. It burns easily. Here, let me see the recipe.”

          The voices of Junkrat and Ana float through the small gap in the door to the common room and kitchen. No one ever really uses that kitchen, but apparently Junkrat has decided to change that. Mako reluctantly pushes the door open. Junkrat is standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but the slightly too big underpants that the others in the house have forced him to wear (normally he would just parade around naked if he wasn’t wearing his shorts, because underpants isn’t really a thing where he comes from) and an apron. His back is to the door Mako is coming through. Those ridiculous tan lines from his harness are still visible on his freckled skin. Mako wonders if they will ever go away completely.

          Ana is standing next to Junkrat, wearing a long kaftan dress. Her white hair has been braided and rolled up into a bun on top of her head. Mako has always wanted to learn how to braid like that, but he has never had the courage to ask her to teach him. Her hand is on Junkrat’s shoulder as he leans down to read the stained sheet of paper. Even from the other side of the room, Mako recognizes Junkrat’s clumsy handwriting. Looks like he’s tried to write down a recipe from a magazine or a website.

          “Ah, there’s your problem, sweetheart,” Ana says and points at the paper. “When it says ‘cup’, they don’t just mean any old cup. It’s a specific measurement.”

          “Oh,” Junkrat says and scratches his less patchy head. “That’s weird.”

          “Tell me about it,” Ana chuckles, then adds under her breath, “ _Al'amrikiuwn sakhifin_ ” and shakes her head. Mako doesn’t understand it, but one of the words sounds like ‘Americans’.

          “Here.” Ana hands Junkrat a measurement cup from one of the cabinets. “This is the cup you need to use. Just try again.”

          She pats Junkrat’s back, turns her head and spots Mako by the door. She smiles and opens her mouth to say something when Junkrat, whose back is still turned, cuts across her.

          “Just want to cook a nice pie for Hog,” he says. “Don’t reckon anyone done that for him in a long while, and he’s always doing nice things for me like not letting those thugs back in Junkertown rip me lungs out. Y’know, nice things like that.”

          “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled,” Ana says, keeping her gaze locked with Mako’s. “It will be a nice _surprise_ , won’t it?” She winks at Mako.

          “Hoggy don’t really like surprises,” Junkrat sighs. He sounds a bit defeated. “Last bloke who surprised him don’t have any toes left.”

          “I’m sure he will like this one,” Ana says with a soft smile to try and comfort him. “And he doesn’t have to know that I helped you. He’ll think you made this all by yourself, and he’ll be very proud.”

          “Really? You think so?” Junkrat seems to perk up a bit.

          “I know so.”

          Mako and Ana keep staring at each other for another few seconds. Mako is glad he’s wearing his mask, because he’s not sure he’d want Ana to see him smile like this. He simply nods at Ana, then carefully pulls back out the door and quietly closes it.

          About an hour later, while Mako is pretending to be asleep, Junkrat slips through the door as quietly as he can (which isn’t very quietly at all, but Mako keeps his eyes closed). A sweet, warm smell spread in the room as Junkrat tiptoes around the bed and puts something down on the nightstand. Then he crawls onto the bed.

          “Psst, Roadie,” Junkrat whispers against Mako’s ear. Mako pretends to be deeply asleep. Junkrat pokes him. “Roadiiiieeee.”

          “What?” Mako grunts and rubs his eyes, yawning. He rolls onto his side and almost squashes Junkrat. Junkrat snickers.

          “Wake up, you big lug, I’ve got something for you.”

          “What have you got for me?” Mako hums and slips a hand over Junkrat’s naked side (he has lost the apron) to squeeze his ass. “Is it down here?”

          “No, I baked you a pie!” Junkrat snorts, but he doesn’t push Mako’s hand away. “Look!”

          Mako pushes himself up on his elbows and turns to see the pie on the nightstand. It actually looks very nice (thanks, Ana), and it’s only a little burned on the edge. It smells really good, too. Mako’s stomach growls.

          “Did you really bake that all by yourself?” Mako asks Junkrat, who has crawled up and settled halfway onto Mako’s belly.

          “Right’o, all by me merry old self!” he says with a wide smile.

          “Wow, I’m very impressed,” Mako tells him, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Junkrat look that proud of himself since he showed Mako how he had built his own mechanical limbs. Mako isn’t prone to being sentimental, but there honestly isn’t much Mako wouldn’t do to see that look on Junkrat’s face more often.

 

*


End file.
